Page 22 of Last Gift: Supernatural Battle

“This time is for good? How can you tell?”

“I don’t give a fuck about Bedwyr and Josie. I’m talking about Frond’s group. They’re focused.”

I could take that to mean his magic wasn’t having its usual effect. “Counter efforts?” Are your parents working on them?

“Nope. Just their determination.”

I pulled a face. “This was bound to happen.” After the advisor meeting yesterday, the coven had new direction. Teams would be put in place over the next couple of days, and the work would begin. Frond’s band of merry dissenters wouldn’t have the time or energy to spread hate then. And if they did, then whatever—they were welcome to their opinions. My intentions were pure.

My gut churned at the thought of my secrets. Could I really blame those magus for obeying their instincts? With Frond, it was personal. With his friends, they might be supporting him—or be interested in joining the original coven also. The others at that table… they weren’t really wrong. They were trusting their guts, which told them that I was concealing parts of the truth.

And I was. The meeting yesterday had confirmed how much. And I was meant to keep track of all the lies too. Eventually, they’d catch up with me. Eventually I’d be free of them. But we had things to get done first.

Wild looped his arm around my shoulders, looking across at his friend. “As long as it doesn’t grow, right?”

Sven folded his muscular arms. “I’ll watch it.”

“Thanks,” I said. Wild was right. As long as Frond’s supporters didn’t amass, then we were good. “I’m off to divination.”

“Joining the centering circle?” Corey said in a dreamy voice.

“Nah, more work with the staves.” Divination was the area I needed the most work in. With grimoire, I didn’t sense the same resistance. I’d come into the fourth affinity out of love shared with Wild. My divination was born of pain and loss, and maybe I’d never given its origins enough credit.

I tipped my head back to look at Wild. “I wouldn’t mind getting together with you, Huxley, and Spyne one time to work on grimoire.”

“I’m busy. Get in line,” Huxley said, standing. He glared at Rooke. “Have you purified the greenhouse?”

I glanced between them. “Uh, why?”

Rooke smiled. “Sven and I had a lot of sex in there yesterday.”

“Amongst all the poisons?”

“Some things excite me.”

Huxley snapped, “I’m not putting my notebooks where you’ve put your ass, or where Sven has slapped his balls.”

Wild laughed quietly as Rooke and Huxley walked away, bickering.

Sven’s smirk was smug. “It happened. Woman has a thing for danger, what can I say? Turned me on, too, after a bit.”

I needed to vacate this conversation. I stood.

“Your attention,” I boomed in a magically enhanced voice.

The quiet was immediate aside from a few comments from Frond’s table.

“You will note changes being made in the coven today,” I called. “Please go about affinity practice and your projects as normal. These changes will be explained during a coven gathering tomorrow morning after breakfast. For now, I’d like to announce that Positive—I mean, uh, Corentin—will hold daily centering circles in the divination center from now on. These will commence after breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I encourage you to attend as often as possible. I will reveal the reasoning behind this tomorrow also. Have a good day, everyone.”

Conversation gradually resumed, and I turned to say goodbye to Wild, who’d be with his sentries all day. He was staring at my chest.

“Need sunglasses?” I asked him.

He blinked a few times, squinting to peer at my face. “It’s bright.”

I tried to push my magic down some. I used to always keep it concealed, but now tendrils floated about. “Better?”

Wild rubbed his chest. “For my eyes, not the rest of me.”

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